


He Calls Himself Friend

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Solas Positivity Week [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen’Harel comforts a grieving friend. </p><p>For Solas Positivity Week: Day 5, Solas + Friendship</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Calls Himself Friend

Ghilan’nain’s laughter makes the flowers grow. 

The first time he sees it, Fen’Harel can only watch in amazement as her clear voice coaxes shoots of lilies to sprout from the soil. They grow and grow until the orange and blood petals fan open with jubilant sighs.

Of all the elvhen gods, he enjoys her companionship the most. Dirthamen is as clever as he for academic discussions, June is handy with jokes and for a good game of chance. Andruil’s heated embrace leaves him limping for days and Mythal offers sage advice he does his best to ignore. They all have something to offer Fen’Harel, but all ask for something in return.

Except for Ghilan’nain.

When she listens, it is not to hear your weakness. When she smiles, it is not with fangs bared. She is far from naive, or weak, and those that test their luck find themselves trampled beneath her feet, but she is different, gentle in a world of monsters that can level mountains. When she calls you kin it is a bond made deep within, and not even the trickster wolf would dare break something so rare and treasured.

It is why Fen’Harel growls in fury now. Ghilan’nain kneels in decay, the flowers and grass around her wilted and turned black. If her laughter makes the world grow, it is her misery that sees it shrivel. She hovers over the body of a noble halla with beautiful golden horns and dead eyes. An arrow with red fletching sticks from its stomach as scarlet and gore run down the animal’s fine white hide

Fen’Harel drops down next to the goddess. “What has happened, lethallan?” he asks, although he knows whose arrow has taken this life.

“He was cherished friend,” she says as trembling fingers brush across still fur. “She did not even give him a clean death, but one that lingered for hours. We fought and I…she is jealous, paranoid, angry, vengeful. She is, she is…”

“Mad,” Fen’Harel finishes. Long has he noticed how his lover’s eyes grow wild not with life, but a sickness consuming all. He reaches out and pulls Ghilan’nain to his chest and remains there as the sun makes its way across the meadow, until the birds sing their last songs before settling under wing. He waits, a patient hound bound by loyalty, until she heaves a heavy sigh and untangles herself from his arms.

“What do you wish to do?” he asks. Anger boils inside him, howling and clawing to be let free. He should have dealt with Andruil before this happened and now cannot let her escape such a crime. Not anymore. “Do you seek revenge?”

Ghilan’nain shakes her head. “No, Fen’Harel. Would you help me harm her even if I did?”

“There is a little I would not do for you, lethallan.”

She smiles, but it does not make the meadow grow green again. “I love her as you do, even after this, but she must be stopped. We must help her.”

“I fear she is beyond us, but,” he pauses, eyes glancing into the distance, “I have a plan, a plan to make the others see what they refuse to acknowledge. It will not be easy-”

“And she will not be harmed?” She reaches up to clutch at the fabric around his shoulders. Fen’Harel looks into her eyes sparkling like dew over emerald moss. He lays a gentle kiss upon her brow.

“Only for you will I promise this. Weep no longer, all will be well.” He kisses her again and again, soft, quick brushes across her skin, and a smile with life in it breaks across her mouth. When he leans forward to press for more she bats him away with true laughter that fills his heart with hope more than any others could. “Come.” 

Fen’Harel helps her to her feet and takes her into the forest. Beside the body of the dead, a single white flower grows.


End file.
